The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1887-04-16
LASS0ING A LION.
! WYOMING COWBOYS THRILL
ING ADVENTURE.
Meeting Three Large Mountain
Lions and Wounding One With
q Pistol ShOt-LassOing the
Brutc-A Wild Gallon.


marked young man, the ether day, in
presence of a San Francisco Call re-
porter. And, subsequently, upon being
questioned by the latter, he told the
following remarkable but well-authenti-
Gated tale was in the employ of cat
tleman-ln short, ''cowboy'-and
besides natural love of adventure,
which had gratified for several years,
had, no doubt, imbibed some Of that
spirit of utter recklessnoss which charac
terizes the class of which l was, for the
time being, a member. Early one bright
morning my employer sent me out to
look for some horses which had strayed,
he thought, somewhere in the vicinity of
Lance Creek about eco miles north of
Cheyenne, only few miles from where
we were then encamped. Mounted on my
stout, little broncho. or "cow pony" L
soon reached the creek, and rode slowly
along its banks, keeping sharp lookout
for the missing animals. The banks of
the creek were fringed with cottonwood
and poplar trees, intermingled with
clumps OF osiers and a dense under
growth; but on either side the country
was open and billy. Experience had
/ taught me to be suspicious of any tree or
bush in that section large enough to
ambush human being; for, to say moth
ing Of white de,peradoes, Sioux and
/ Cheyenne Indians from the Pine Ridge
/ Agency. were frequently met with, and,
though proiessedly at peace, were not to
be trusted. Consequently, as l rode
along, from time to time peered anx-
iously in among the trees and under
brush.
Ind followed the course of the creek
several miles when suddenly my pony
snorted and jumped to one side, almost
unseating me. Perhaps ten PAGES in front
of me, crouched as if ready to spring,
were three large mountain lions. l had
always had great desire to meet one of
these creatures in his native wilds; but
this was trif1e too much of good thing
to suit me. Without second thought,
however, l whipped out my Colts revol-
ver-the only weapon had-and fire |
at the group. At the report of my pts
toll two of them bounded OIL through the
underbrush and were soon out of sight,
and the other, uttering a shrill scream,
writhed for second on the ground and
then attempted to follow his companions,
limping badly.
My blood was up; two of the fine crea-
lures had taken flight, and without re-
flecting upon the possible consequences,
l put spurs to my pony and dashed after
the wounded lion. Moving so rapidly,
] knew it would lie impossible to shoot
with any accuracy, and there was great
danger of the lion turning on me if l ap-
preached too near. Suddenly it flashed
through my mind: Why can't l lasso
him, as l have h ard of gauchos doing
on the South American pampas.
Attached to my saddle was my braided
rawhide lasso-about forty feet in length
in the use of which had, as every
cowboy must, become quite proficient.
One end of it was firmly attached to the
pommel of my saddle, and the remainder
of it, carefully coiled up, was tied to the
front of the saddle by means of couple
of rawhide strings or thongs. Hastily
christening the latter without checking
my pony, which was evidently much eX.
cited and inclined to sheer away from
the lion-Iprepared for the throw. l had
used my lasso so much frequently, doing
little else but lasso or ''roper cattle fol-
weeks together, that it was but the work
of moment. carefully measuring the
distance with my eye, l whirled the
lasso several times around my head, and
at what seemed the proper moment, lei
fly. The instant it left my hand my
pony, as ne had been trained, stopped sud
denly, and braced back, almost upon hi:
Launches. My calculations had beer
correct.
saw the rope settle around the lion.
neck and the next instant, when h,
reached the end of it. and tightening i
threw him on his back, he uttered tn,
most appalling scream it was ever nv lo